


5 times Tony was there for his spider-son

by spjderloki



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, And Tony Is Not Having It, Anxious Tony Stark, Domestic Fluff, Flash Thompson Bullies Peter Parker, Gen, Hurt Peter, I Blame Tumblr, I just had to, Light Angst, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter is Not Impressed, Peter is a Little Shit, Precious Peter Parker, Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Tony Has Issues, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, also, and he gets it, because of course there's domestic fluff, because of his spidey senses, but everyone loves him, by the way, its very light i promise, kind of, peter is an empath, who cares for that shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-23 19:14:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18708268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spjderloki/pseuds/spjderloki
Summary: ... and one time Peter was there for his dad.





	1. Chewie

**Author's Note:**

> hello younglins!  
> this is the first part of a little 5+1 fic because i'm a sucker for these, i really am. also, life gave me two options: accept that the events in avengers: endgame actually happened and try to move on, or ignore the existence of that movie and write fluff irondad content like nothing happened. y'all can guess which one seemed more appealing.  
> i have the rest of the chapters planned out but i didn't write them yet, i'll try to post one of these every day and get it done by next week, but... yeah. no promises.
> 
> no trigger warnings!  
> enjoy :)

Peter doesn’t really know _when_ the cat became such an important part of their lives. All he knows is that one day, a cat came into the hospital, and next thing he knows, he’s living with them and his name is Chewie (because _of course_ it is). Peter loves it, having a partner. He feeds him and cares for him and, eventually, the feline grows really fond of the spider-kid. May isn’t surprised: his nephew has that effect on everyone - apparently, not just people.

Four to six months go by, a time where Chewie just becomes part of their daily routine - Peter feeds him before school and May does too when she gets back from work. The cat is hardly ever alone, but when he is, he doesn’t do much but go out the window and explore the building’s roof. The first time that happened, the pair got deadly scared, but now it’s just another thing they’ve grown accustomed of. Peter can, eventually, if he’s in deep need of a feline presence (which is more often than not), climb and find the cat smelling something shady on the common roof. He’ll bring him back to the apartment and talk to him while the cat gives himself a bath in the middle of the living room.

And they like it, and sooner than later it’s something they can’t live without. Especially Peter.

That’s why, when the time comes, Peter has one of his trademark freak-outs.

“What? Why? Why do we have to do that?” He asks with a higher-pitched voice than usual. May pats his shoulder.

“Chewie is six months old, honey. It’s now or never. Or, well, it’s now or _now_. I’m sorry, Pete. It’s happening,” she replies with a calm voice that just startles Peter even more.

“Are you kidding?” He screams. “Why are you not scared? They could— He could— What if the— May!” Peter pleads, moving his arms in a _very_ dramatic way only he could pull off.

“It’s gonna be fine, Peter! It’s a certified procedure done by a certified vet. Nothing’s gonna happen to Chewie and I’m gonna be right here with you during the whole process. Does that sound good?” She asks, and the fact that he can count on May’s company calms him down a little. _It’s okay_ , he thinks as he looks over to the cat who, unbothered, is licking what very much seems like his private parts. _She’d never let them hurt you._

Except, of course, and out of what can only be explained as good old Parker Luck (a term he’s grown to hate with every cell in his body), May is not there next to him during the entire process. In fact, May is called in because of short staff on the one day she _had_ to stay in. And Peter is fine, Peter is a grown-up, Peter can handle it just fine. Except for the part where he’s not at all fine, he’s not at all a grown-up, and the bare sight of needles and pointy things that go in and out of someone’s body make him feel dizzy.

He told May he’d be good by himself, he _promised_ , and now May is off to work. He can’t take it back now, and he doesn’t dare to either. Ned would be of no help either, and he’s off to his grandma’s for the day anyway. And so, Peter sighs, embarrassed, but knowing that he has no other option but to call the only other person he trusts.

_Pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up pick up pick up_. Peter is knee deep in a panic spiral. His phone shakes on his hands and for a second, he doubts he’ll live through the process of seeing someone stab his cat and take his testicles out (because that’s totally how castration works, he’s sure).

“Peter?” Tony _freaking_ Stark speaks up on the other side of the line. “Hey, kid. Is everything okay? I can hear you breathe,” he says. A beat, and Tony’s voice changes. “Are you hurt? Are you wearing the suit? FRIDAY didn’t say anything about you being in the suit. I swear to god if you took the goddamn tracker off once again—”

“It’s my cat,” Peter says, biting his lip.

Silence. “Your _what_?”

“My… cat. Chewie. He— Well, um. We have to, you know, do that thing so he can’t have kids. And, well, May was gonna be here but now she can’t because of work and I’m terrified of needles, Tony—”

Silence. Silence. Silence. Please, Peter begs in silence. Tony sighs and he may or may not be trying to contain a smile.

“Okay,” he says. “I’m on my way. Try not to touch any of the pointy things, Sleeping Beauty.”

And he hangs up, and Peter gulps. Chewie looks at him and the kid swears he can notice disappointment in the cat’s eyes. It’s okay, because May would be disappointed too. He’s a little bit disappointed himself, but he doesn’t care. He allows himself to be a little kid when it comes to the cat. _Only_ when it comes to the cat. Because Peter is a very mature person the rest of the time. Obviously.

Tony doesn’t know _when_ the kid became such an important part of his life. All he knows is that one day, a kid came to Berlin with him, and next thing he knows, he’s his personal intern and mentee superhero (because _of course_ he is). Peter loves it, having a mentor. He annoys him and cares for him and, eventually, the billionaire grows really fond of the spider-kid. No one’s surprised: Peter has that effect on everyone.

That’s how he finds himself driving all the way to Queens in the middle of the day, clearing his schedule for the day. Because of a kid. Because the kid is afraid of needles. Somehow, life’s made it so that Earth’s Best Defender’s job is to protect this kid. Be it from bad guys or pointy things. And he’s not complaining, he’s just a little taken aback.

He tries to put it together, to find the exact moment in which Tony decided to let his guard down and really care for a kid that’s not even his son. Tony could’ve sworn he was not meant to be a father, ever. His dad had been unbelievably bad at it, so he naturally thought he had inherited it. As it turns out, it was all just a bunch of bull he’d put in his head to stop himself from caring, because caring means you’re affected by the well-being (or lack of it) of that person. And if something goes wrong, it’s _bad_. This is only one of the many reasons why Tony didn’t want to like Peter.

But he does, he likes him a lot.

He finds it weird, but he’s really, really amazed by the kid oftentimes. Sure, he’s a strong-as-fuck mutant that can stop a bus with his bare hands and stick to ceilings, but other than that, he’s also amazingly smart. That’s why he takes him in as an intern, and everyone at the Tower soon gets to know the precious Peter Parker, who walks in smiling and greets you with excitement even if that’s the first time he’s seeing you. He makes the tower feel a little bit warmer, and Tony likes it. Not that he’d ever say it to him, though.

But, and no matter how much he tries to deny it to everyone, to the kid, to himself, he’d die for the spider-ling in a split second, not only because he’s Tony Stark and self-sacrifice is part of his daily routine to the point the Avengers find it hilarious, but also because he feels like it’s his job. The kid is out there stopping bad guys wearing spandex and he’s doing it no matter how much it worries the _shit_ out of May and Tony. So he knows that, if he can’t stop him from playing the superhero card, he’s at least going to make it as safe as possible.

Obviously, his protecting duties aren’t over when Peter takes the suit off. Be it because he needs help with a school project or because his cat is about to get castrated, Tony has to be there for the kid a lot. He enjoys it. He feels wanted. A part of him even misses it when Peter’s gone, because the boy really believes there’s nothing Tony can’t do, and when he’s around him, Tony even believes it.

His long, long train of thought makes a stop when Tony pulls over in front of the building, that looks like it’s one wind blow away from falling apart. He exits the car and enters the facility and, soon, he’s knocking on the same old door. It takes Peter less than five seconds to receive him, and even if he’s deeply scared for the future of his pet, he’s smiling. Always.

Tony grins and rolls his eyes. “Let’s see that bloody cat.”

Peter leads him to the pet, who’s now sitting on a table where a doctor that had arrived a few minutes earlier had displayed a long selection of tools. Tony can see Peter’s fidgety fingers on his peripheral vision. That’s something he does when he’s anxious, Tony notices. He puts a hand on his shoulder as comfort and the kid noticeably relaxes under it. Peter is so affectionate it makes Tony’s ice walls melt down.

“Are they gonna hurt him?” He asks, small. Tony has to stop himself from smiling. Iron Man has to stop himself from smiling as he protects a sixteen-year-old from a harmless doctor that’s there to neuter a cat. The sixteen-year-old also happens to be a superhero. When did his life become so… nice?

“They won’t,” Tony replies. “Mr. Doctor over here is gonna do an amazing job, you’ll see.”

Peter almost lets his guard down after that, but then Mr. Doctor (that was his name now) grabs some very weird looking tools and the spider-kid does _not_ like the sound of that.

“I’m just gonna sedate him now, so he won’t feel a thing,” Mr. Doctor states. Peter nods slowly. “Then, he’ll be asleep during the whole process, and it’ll be over before he wakes up.”

Tony glances at the kid under his grip. He’s scared. Not of guns, not of war criminals, not of bullets or knives. He’s scared of the most regular things and somehow, it’s not at all related to his bravery on the field. Tony moves him to a side and gives him a better look.

“I can stay,” he says. Peter doesn’t understand where the statement comes from so, naturally, he waits for him to go on. “You don’t have to be here. You can wait in your room or… I don’t know. Something. You don’t have to watch the whole thing.”

Tony sounds firm, but Peter can feel he’s trying to help. He smiles at that. Still, he doesn’t think he’s capable of doing anything else while his cat is being _stabbed in the stomach_ in the next room. He shakes his head.

“It’s okay. I kind of have to. Chewie would never forgive me,” Peter answers.

Tony frowns. “What kind of name is _Chewie_?” A beat. His whole face hardens. “Tell me it’s not a Star Trek reference or something.”

Peter laughs. “It’s _not_ ,” he says, but Tony can feel there’s more to it. “It’s a Star Wars reference.”

Tony seriously reconsiders all the choices he made in life. Except he doesn’t. He laughs at the kid, or with the kid, he can’t tell. He walks him back into the room, where the cat is almost completely drugged now. Peter’s face goes pale when he sees him sleeping.

“What’s happening to him?” He mumbles.

“Nothing,” Mr. Doctor tries to be as calm as possible. The kid’s frightened expression isn’t helping. “He’s sedated, he can’t feel anything. That way I can start with the procedure.”

Peter holds tight to Tony’s arm, clinging onto it like he’s gonna fall. Tony just cards a hand through the boy’s hair, placing it on his shoulder afterward. He nods at Mr. Doctor who, at the gesture, starts pulling tools out and, well, _using them_. The whole time, Tony can feel the kid shaking, and when he thinks he sees the cat move or react in the slightest (which he doesn’t - the cat is deeply under the effect of drugs and probably dreaming about riding a big ass donut), he hides his face on Tony’s coat. Tony rolls his eyes. It’s annoying, really. The kid isn’t fair to him; he makes it impossible not to like him.

A little bit over half an hour later, Tony’s almost one hundred percent sure Peter’s fallen asleep. They’re sitting on the couch and it’s barely past three p.m., but something tells him the spider-boy hadn’t slept the night before. He gets it, now. The kid adores his cat. The kid has grown fond of the cat. The kid would eat a bullet before letting his cat die or take any harm.

The kid reminds Tony of someone.

“Hey, Underoos,” he tries. Peter moves a little. “C’mon, rise and shine.”

The boy opens one eye and then the other, letting light slowly get through them. His face goes red when he realizes he just took a nap lying on his mentor. “Sorry,” he says. Tony scoffs.

“No, don’t even think about it. I just wanted to say that Mr. Doctor just left and everything went fine. The cat’s sleeping.”

“You can call him Chewie,” Peter says.

“No, I can’t,” Tony replies, making Peter laugh.

“Can I see him?”

“Sure. He’s asleep, though. He won’t wake for another hour and even after that he’s most likely gonna be all drugged up until tomorrow morning,” he explains simply. Confusion fills Peter’s eyes.

“Why?” He protests. “Isn’t he supposed to go back to normal?”

“Kid—”

“May said Chewie would go back to normal after the surgery.”

“He will, Pete. The sedative just takes a little to wash off.”

“I don’t want anything to happen to him,” Peter says.

“He’ll be fine! I promise.”

But promises don’t seem to have any effect on the boy in front of him as they speak, so Tony tries with something else. “I got him something,” he says. Peter just looks at him, stranged. “The cat, I mean. I didn’t know what kind of situation you had called me in for so I sort of bought some… Things. I don’t know what to call them.”

Peter’s eyes light up. “You bought Chewie toys?”

Tony laughs. “No,” he says. Peter stares. “Yes.”

The kid jumps. He does that a lot, actually. When he’s excited, Peter’s intimidatingly energetic. He brushes that off on everyone he’s around so, eventually, even Tony finds himself excited.

“Tony! I— The— You—”

And just like that, anxiety is gone. The _toys_ Tony’s brought are, to Peter’s delight, really hard to understand, so they spend most of the afternoon laughing at each other as they try to make simple yet strangely misleading cat toys. At some point, Chewie wakes up, and Tony’s afraid Peter might spiral once again when he sees the cat stumbling, but instead, the boy just laughs. It’s funny and it’s nice and Peter’s glad he called Tony, because he somehow knew Tony wouldn’t laugh. No matter how much of a little kid he behaved like when the cat was around, Tony wouldn’t laugh. And Tony doesn’t. And it’s simple and fun, and when Tony realizes that, it’s scary. It’s very scary. But Peter laughs again, and it’s slightly less scary than before. It’s easy and good.

Something pulls inside Tony when he has to carry the boy to his room after finding him curled up in the couch, sleeping after what truly was an exhausting day for him. He doesn’t have second thoughts when he tucks him into bed. _It’s okay because he won’t remember any of it anyway_ , Tony thinks, allowing himself to believe that’s the only reason why he’s doing it.

He knows there’s more to it, but he doesn’t want to go down that rabbit hole. After the ride back home, though, Tony seems to feel some kind of natural, genuine happiness.

The Parker Effect, they call it. And Tony loves it.  



	2. True or False

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> one day, peter stops going to school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woop, chapter number two! i tried to keep it short and sweet but accidentally made it long and kind of angsty. anyway, enjoy! stay safe! love ya!
> 
> trigger warnings:  
> \- homophobic slur (f*****)  
> \- mentions of bullying and physical violence

Peter’s trapped. He knows there’s no way he’ll trick May into being homeschooled out of the blue, and he knows there are so many days in a row he can pretend to be sick before she puts two and two together. It takes her an entirety of three days to figure out that something’s wrong because, no matter how much she wanted to believe Peter’s bullshit about his immune system, she knows that not even the worst flu would hold the kid back from going to school for that long.

May is actually proud of it: his nephew is an A-list nerd, and she loves him for that. Peter gets excited over things most of the kids his age wouldn’t, probably because he’s smarter than all of them combined. Peter’s probably the first Stark Industries intern under the age of 18 and not only that — he’s Tony Stark’s personal  _freaking_  intern, and no matter how much May despises the man from time to time for all the things he’s done (taking his kid to Berlin, giving his kid a super suit, making his kid an Avenger, taking his kid to space…), she knows how much Stark means to Peter, and that’s probably the only reason why her heart’s growing a little bit fond of him. Sure, Peter’s a superhero, but he’s a super-kid as well — he’s smart, so smart, and she’s fully aware of it. The boy enjoys school, he enjoys homework and studying and learning and he absolutely  _adores_  Chemistry and Physics.

That’s why, when she realizes what’s up, she curses because  _she should’ve known sooner_. Peter has been lying to her and sure, it’s a white lie, but she still feels a little bit betrayed.

“Can I come in?” She asks, knocking on Peter’s door. The kid is lying on his bed staring at the ceiling and singing what very much sounds like the opening theme of Brooklyn Nine-Nine, quietly, to himself. At the sudden sound, he sits straighter and nods.

“Sure,” he replies in that trademark, high-pitched voice that sounds so much like a kid’s voice, it makes May’s heart burst. There’s really nothing she wouldn’t do for Peter, and at that thought, she walks in and sighs.

“How are you feeling?” Is the question she picks from the billion ones that are buzzing behind her teeth. She decides to start with an easy one because she knows nothing good ever comes from pushing Peter too much.

Peter, in response, shrugs. “A lil’ bit better, I think.”

There’s a beat, and May sits on the edge of his bed. Peter feels the confusion May’s going through right in the back of his neck.

“That’s great, really…” She says but trails off as she looks out the window. They fall into a not-so-comfortable silence, and Peter starts scratching the back of his ear.

The truth is, Peter’s no idiot. A small part inside of him actually hoped that May would put the pieces together and ask him because he can’t find the strength inside him to just go forward and tell her what’s been going on. He fears that, once he speaks up, his voice will sound tiny and ridiculous, and he knows he’s being stupid and overthinking, but the snowball is too big now, so he just keeps the lie up until either of them break.

Sadly, May doesn’t break.

“Well, today is lab day, isn’t it?” She asks after what feels like hours. Peter shifts, uncomfortable.

“Yep,” he says in return with a pop.

A beat. “Are you gonna call in sick?”

Peter shakes his head immediately. “No, no. I’m going.”

“Great,” May’s lips are pressed into a straight line. She comes closer to Peter and kisses him in the forehead. “I’m off to work. Please, take a shower before leaving this house. You smell like a dead man.”

Peter sticks his tongue out and, for a second, a small weight is lifted from both their shoulders. Something’s wrong, May knows it, but whatever it is, Peter seems to want to keep it to himself, and honestly, there’s nothing she can do.

Nothing, except…

May sighs as she grabs her things and walks out of the apartment, stepping into the elevator with her phone in her hand. She types, exasperated, yet silently thankful that there’s someone else who seems to care about Peter as much as her. Well, not  _as much_ , obviously. But it’s still a fair amount of love she’s glad the kid is getting from someone other than herself.

She sends the picture and writes a short message explaining the context. Then, as she spots the bus turning around the corner, she puts it down and runs like her life depends on it, eventually catching the vehicle and jumping in. For a minute, she allows herself to trust that her weird co-parent will do the work just fine. The thought of having Peter struggle with something and having no one to open up about it makes her chest sting. She rests her head against the glass and catches her breath, and her building quickly is left behind.

Peter, still lying on his bed, covers his face with his hands and groans. There’s something on his neck and chest, a certain pressure. He feels awfully guilty for lying to his aunt. Peter  _never_  lies to May. But now… Now, he just can’t bring himself forward. He can’t, he won’t, he’s not sure. But he feels really lonely, and that feeling strangles him.

Tony, on the other side, is feeling overly disconcerted when he gets May’s texts. It takes him a minute to fully understand, and when he does, the words come out him flat, with no emotion, not as a question nor a statement.

“What the fuck.” An entire room of people turns to look at him, included amongst them some very important businessmen that are there to either buy something or sell something. Tony can’t seem to remember any names, and honestly, he could care less. The only familiar face is, of course, Pepper Potts, who’s just staring at him waiting for any sort of explanation. As it doesn’t come, Pepper has to excuse both of them and bring Tony to a side while the room fills with quiet murmurs.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Pepper asks as quietly as she can.

“It’s the kid,” Tony states, looking over her shoulder like he’s not really there. His face is drowning in confusion.

A beat. Pepper’s expression changes completely. “Peter? What happened?”

“He… He’s been missing school. He failed five tests. He keeps lying to May, pretending that he’s sick.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Pepper replies. She’s visibly confused as well because even if she knows less about Peter than the rest of them, she knows that whoever Tony described right there is _not_ Peter. “How do you know?”

“May texted me.”

She nods. “Today’s what, Wednesday?” Pepper waits for a response but already knows she’s right. Tony can’t bring himself to care, anyway, until she speaks up again. “It’s lab day. You can talk to him when he comes over.”

Tony’s face hardens, not because he’s annoyed but because he’s been hoping that the one dad-talk he wouldn’t have to give Peter is the _stay in school, don’t do drugs_ one. He sighs. “Do I—”  
  
“Yes, you do. No, you don’t have any other choice. Yes, he’s coming over after school. No, I won’t talk to him for you.”

At that, defeated, Tony nods. He bails the meeting and Pepper has to apologize for him with the good old ‘Iron Man duties’ excuse. No one truly believes it, but who are they to question Tony  _freaking_  Stark?

No one. They’re no one. Absolute zeros.

Peter’s feeling like an absolute zero himself when he steps out of the shower. As he changes back into normal clothes (not pajamas, for the first time in three days), the spider-kid looks up to the ceiling, thankful to whichever godlike entity that has decided to spare him from the killing migraine… For now, at least.

He texts Ned and smiles a little as his naturally supportive best friend tells him how much he misses him. He fills him in with everything he’s missed on his sick days, not-so-casually skipping the part about Flash and his douche friends. Peter is more than thankful for that. Ned sends him pictures of the homework he’s missing and Peter quickly gets to work, desperate to have something to do other than play with a pillow nervously.

His phone buzzes seven equations later, and Peter answers the call while rubbing his very tired hand. Still, he looks proud of his job as he glances to the sheet of paper in front of him. “Hello?”

“What’s up, Underoos?” A very familiar voice reaches his ears from the other side of the line and Peter has to pull the phone away to whisper  _holy shit_  before pulling himself together.

“H-Hey, Mr. Stark!” He squeaks.

“ _Tony_ ,” the man corrects fondly. Peter’s cheeks are quickly flushed. “How are you?”

“I’m… Homework,” he manages to get out. “What are you— Is everything—”

“Jeez. Calm down, kiddo. I’m just calling to check on you,” Tony says. “You coming to the tower today?”

Peter gets over his fanboying quick. “Yeah, yes. I was about to head out, actually. I just have some homework to finish.”

“Bring it! You can finish it here.”

“You sure? I don’t know if we’ll have any time, you know… I  _really_  have to work on my shooters tonight, and—”

“No, you’ll have time. I told your aunt you’re staying over.”

Peter smiles to himself for a second to then bite his lip. “Tony, you don’t have to—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Tony interrupts. “You know the drill, spiderling. You’re  _always_  welcome in the tower. You have your own room, for crying out loud. Stop feeling so self-conscious.”

A beat. “Thank you, Tony,” He’s not fully convinced, but it works.

“Want me to send you a car?”

“No, it’s okay. I like taking the bus,” Peter lies. In reality, and now that he knows he can finish his homework some other time, he can’t wait to get on his feet and leave the house. He absolutely loves that apartment, obviously, but after three days, he’s started to feel claustrophobic. The last thing he wants is to wait for Happy to pick him up.

The call ends a few moments later and Peter’s already standing by the door. He closes his backpack and gives one last glance at his reflection in the mirror before walking out.

The record shows: Tony Stark, Earth’s best defender, billionaire, scientific, anxiously pacing around the large room. How’s he supposed to do it? Him, of all people. It’s wildly ironic because Tony Stark is a lot of things, but he is _not_ good with children. Or so he thinks.

He calms himself down, tries not to think about the  _what if’s_ , but that’s all he’s been doing for hours when Peter enters the facility.

_What if someone threatened him?_

_What if he’s ashamed of his grades?_

_What if he’s depressed?_

_What if—_

“Mr. Stark!” Peter cheerfully exits the elevator only moments after FRIDAY’s warned Tony about the boy’s arrival. He’s walking towards him when he stops. “Sorry,  _Tony_ ,” he continues and makes his way to him.

Tony looks at him and does a quick scan for any wounds. It’s a habit, at this point. Then, he tells the boy to leave his things at the room and waits for him to come back. When Peter re-enters the common room, Tony’s sitting on a couch with a Dad Pose. A  _worried_  Dad Pose.

Peter sighs, not sure if out of relief or out of fear for what’s next. He walks the next few steps slowly like he just got a death sentence. After dragging his feet for a few meters, he finally sits on the couch next to his mentor. Tony sighs, too, looking at him with a caring expression that Peter can only translate as pure, genuine concern. It makes his chest feel warm, to feel so cared for, but it also feels like a huge responsibility. Peter might be a lot of things, but he does  _not_  like the idea of being a burden.

“So,” Tony starts.

“So.” Peter echoes, looking at his own fidgety fingers.

“Alright, kid,” the man says after a beat. “We walked the walk, now we gotta talk the talk.”

“When did we walk the walk?” Peter tries to tease, but his voice comes out squeaky and Tony rolls his eyes in response.

“Don’t.”

“Sorry. Do you… know?”

“Your aunt told me. Your school sent her an email asking about your well being or some crap like that.”

“ _Oh_.”

Tony takes a breath and exhales gently. “Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?”

Silence.

“Pete?”

Silence. Maybe, and if Peter’s heightened senses don’t fail him, he can feel Tony’s heartbeat cut through the cold air. Or, wait— Maybe it's his own heartbeat, speeding up as the kid begins to feel smaller and smaller.

“I can’t,” he says, and it’s almost a whisper. Tony has to swallow a lump. He’s scared as  _shit_  but the kid is fine, the kid is sitting right there, the kid is safe, the kid is safe, the kid is safe, the kid is safe.

“Do you want to?” He asks and is very surprised by how steady his voice actually sounds. He’s thankful for it, though. Tony knows the kid well enough to know that the one thing he can’t do is push him. Peter slowly nods, staring at a fixed point in Tony’s shoulder. “What if I ask you some questions instead? Does that work?” The kid nods again, and for a moment Tony thinks he looks more energized. He doesn’t. Peter’s just shaking. “Okay, so… You’ve been skipping school. True or false?”

Peter seems to relax when Tony chooses the easiest interrogation method — one where he doesn’t really have to talk. The kid still doesn’t look at him, but he says “true.”

“You lied about being sick. True or false?”

“True,” guilt stings Peter right in the stomach. He shifts, uncomfortably, and his eyes are filled with desperation. He does  _not_  like this unwanted attention, he does  _not_  like worrying people, he just wants it all to  _end_. Tony reaches out and pats his knee.

“You don’t wanna go to school because you failed some tests. True or false?”

Peter glances at him. “False,” he states. His eyes return to his hands and then the carpet almost immediately.

Tony takes a deep breath. “You don’t wanna go to school because you’re scared. True or false?”

He doesn’t need to hear an answer, and Peter doesn’t give him one. Instead, he keeps looking down, but his eyes are glassy. Tony doesn’t miss this as he bites his inner cheek.

“Did someone find out you’re Spider-Man?” He asks and something on his gut really wishes that that’s just it. Regrettably, Peter shakes his head. “Did someone… hurt you?”

_Please say no, please say no, please say no._

“Peter. Did someone hurt you?” Tony repeats. Peter looks at him and he’s either worried or scared. Or both.

“It’s not a big deal—”

“Fucking  _hell_ , Peter,” the kid flinches a little at the sudden curse.

“—and I didn’t do much to stop him, so it’s kind of my fault.” A horrid silence makes them drown right after those words leave his mouth. Peter wants to curl up in a ball and die.

“Peter, what’s going on?” Tony asks. The boy’s shaking makes the couch move a little.

“He doesn’t— He won’t believe me, and his friends don’t either, even m-my teachers won’t believe I w-work here, a-and most of the time I don’t really care, b-but he insulted my mom and I just— I got really upset a-and he didn’t- he didn’t like that. So, uhm, after g-gym…”

There it is. The awful silence.  _Something, please say something_. Peter is desperately trembling on his spot, and Tony notices the stuttering as something the kid does only when he’s consumed by anxiety or excitement. He takes the easy guess and his heart takes a turn.

“I— I could’ve just stopped him, except I c-couldn’t have. F-Flash might be a bad guy, b-but he’s not a  _bad guy_ , so I knew I could either get beaten up every day or just… n-not go at all.”

Tony closes his eyes for a moment. “What does he do?” Silence. Terrifying silence. “Does he hit you?”

Peter nods so slowly it’s almost unnoticeable. Tony’s whole expression hardens, and the boy can feel his  _rage_ , his  _anger_ , tingling in the back of his neck.

“Y-you’re angry,” he whispers, looking at him in pain. “I’m s-so sorry, I— I shouldn’t have—”

Tony pulls the kid into a tight hug. It doesn’t take long for tears to stain his shirt, but he couldn’t care less. “Not at you,” he whispers back. “God, not at you. Never at you,” he keeps mumbling quietly, and Peter’s heart is going so fast it could win a marathon.

But there’s  _more_. “He called me… H-He said I’m a faggot, too. I don’t m-mind, I’m not… It's not  _accurate_ , and I’m not  _embarrassed_ , b-but…”

And  _more_. Tony cards a hand through the boy’s sweaty mop of brown hair in a desperate attempt to make it stop, to take all the pain away.

“He talks about m-mom,” Peter cries. “And— And May. He says… He says…”

And then, when Tony himself doubts he can take any more… There  _is_  more.

“He s-said he’s waiting for her to— to leave me like m-mom did.”

Tony closes his eyes as he holds Peter tighter. He keeps whispering things to try and ground him, but no words can be as powerful as the pain the boy is feeling. No heightened senses or speeded healing can help with the fact that he’s a kid, a  _damn_  kid who’s lost too much in such a short time. Tony has to stop himself from thinking about the other one, this  _Flash_ , because he knows Peter will feel it too, the anger and the rage. His main priority, now as much as every day of his life, is to keep the boy safe.

After about half an hour of stroking Peter’s hair and back, Tony can finally feel his breathing slow down, go back to normal. He quickly notices the kid’s fallen asleep. Making as little noise as possible, Tony grabs his phone from the coffee table and texts two people: the first one is, obviously, May Parker.

_‘Talked to the kid, had kind of a heart to heart. He’s asleep right now, but he’s okay. He’ll be okay.’_

May doesn’t take long to respond,  _‘Thank God. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if something happened to Peter’_. Tony’s heart feels like it just threw up. He types the words  _me too_ , but doesn’t dare to send them.

Now, the second person he texts is… Well, Tony’s kind of playing the long game here. Pursuing this person’s soft side can go very well or very wrong, but Tony has faith that the Parker Effect will work on this person as it’s been working in almost everyone for sixteen years and counting.  _The Parker Effect_ , he thinks to himself, looking down at the kid who’s soundly asleep using the man’s chest as a pillow. That’s become kind of a habit, too.

  
The sound of the metal box going down and the doors opening thirty floors underneath him is enough to make Peter’s ears tingle. Tony notices the boy moving and quickly removes the hand from his back to look at him. Peter tries not to complain at the loss of warmth, but then Tony cards yet another hand through his messy curls and some sort of inhuman noise comes out of the spider-kid. Tony laughs fondly at how effective physical comfort is when it comes to Peter.

“Hey,” the man says. “Are you up?”

Peter slowly,  _very_  slowly, sits straight. His headache is back and he can’t seem to be surprised. “I’m up, I’m up,” he mumbles.

At that exact moment, the elevator door opens at their floor. Peter feels someone walking in before he can see their figure, but immediately looks at Tony, who just grins. Suddenly, the kid’s eyes widen comically and he stands up. His mentor, luckily, stands up behind him, so it doesn’t look _that_ awkward.

“You’re— You’re—”  _God, make it make sense_. He’s still half asleep but, and at the realization that his mouth is no longer functioning, he sticks out one hand to either shake or just… Leave there as a sign of living activity.

“Hey, маленький паук,” a woman replies, slightly holding back a smile.  _The Parker Effect_.

“I don’t think you’ve met, have you?” Tony interjects. Peter turns to look at him.

“No. I mean— Well, uh.”

The woman laughs. “We’ve met. In Berlin,” the kid’s eyes look like they’re gonna pop out. “Come on. I’m a former Russian spy, former SHIELD agent. You really think I wouldn’t notice? маленький паук literally means  _little spider_.”

Peter doesn’t know if he should be scared, embarrassed, nervous or just starstruck. He chooses to be all of them and his whole face turns red in seconds.

“What are you— Why did you—”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” the woman interrupts, saving him from trying to be normal for a few more seconds. “And I’m here because  _Iron Dad_  called me in.”

Peter, once again, turns around, somehow dismissing the dad pun. Instead, he mouths a  _what?_  Tony rolls his eyes, grin still printed over his face, and walks around the kid to place a friendly hand on the woman’s shoulder

“Natasha’s here because… Promise you won’t get all weird about it,” the man says and Peter’s definitely confused, but he still nods. “I asked her to give you some fighting lessons.”

Peter’s face goes from confused to surprised to, almost immediately, incredibly embarrassed. “What?” He asks but it’s much more of a squeak than it is a question.

“No, no, you promised you wouldn’t do that,” Tony cuts him off. Peter looks down and the man frowns.

“I don’t… I don’t  _need_  fighting lessons, Mr. St—  _Tony_.”

Tony’s gaze goes from Peter to Natasha, then to Peter’s fidgety fingers and then back to Peter.

“I— I mean, you’re _the Black Widow_ , I’m sure you could kill me right now and I’d probably say thank you, but… I know how to fight. I get by. I  _could_  stop Flash, I just… don’t. Because that’s not Peter Parker, that’s… That’s… Spider-Man.”

There’s a new silence between them, now. Not as painful as the former ones, but definitely uncomfortable. Peter moves his hand from his wrist to the back of his ear and he really,  _really_  wishes Tony would’ve asked first.

“Thank you, though,” he adds in a whisper. Tony nods.

“Okay, then,” he says, and he’s clearly confused, but something inside of him sparks. Is it… _pride?_

Natasha smiles at him, then looks at Peter (who, by the way, looks hilariously defeated — did he  _seriously_  just turn down the Black Widow?). “I guess I’m off, then,” she says with not a single shade of nuisance on her voice. That slightly calms the spider-kid down.

Tony says something snarky about some Pop Tarts and Peter quickly understands it’s an old joke between the two or something amongst those lines, because Natasha’s laughing loudly as she enters the elevator and, just as quick as she came in, she’s gone.

The two men don’t speak for a few seconds. Peter looks at his feet. “I’m sorry, Tony.”

“What?” Tony looks at him. “Why?”

“Because, well, you asked Natasha  _freaking_  Romanoff to give me fighting lessons, and I turned them down.”

Tony laughs. “You think I’m  _mad_? Kid, you pulled some noble shit just now. I could  _never_ ,” he says. Peter sighs.

“Yeah, but you were trying to help, weren’t you? I’m really thankful but I— I think I can get by. I’ll just ask Ned to walk with me to and from school or just bring the suit and change so I can, uh,  _swing_  back home. That’s probably risky, though. But the Ned thing—"

Tony nods and he’s certainly not convinced but Peter still allows himself to relax. “So you’re going to school tomorrow?”

The kid takes a deep breath. “Yeah, yeah. I’m going.”

  
Time jumps to Thursday afternoon, and Peter’s gotten through almost the entire school day with not so many obstacles. Being next to MJ and Ned surely helps. He has only one class left before he can finally go, and his heartbeat slightly speeds up when Flash, sitting in front of him, turns and mouths  _you’re dead_. It shouldn’t bother him. It shouldn’t. Hell, he’s Spider-Man. A freaking Avenger (kind of). But, then again… is he? He can’t use his powers or his reflexes, he can’t get rid of his heightened senses but he tries to shut them down as much as possible. In front of Flash, he’s just Peter Parker, and he has no escape.

The bell rings and he jumps a little, being pulled out of his own mind. He grabs his books and pretty much flies his way to the school exit. However, and no matter how much the back of his neck warns him, he can’t help it when someone, _someone_ , kicks him in the leg, making him fall to one knee and drop his every book to the floor. Peter sighs. He just has to  _get out of there, get out of there, get out of there_.

He’s barely even looking up when another certain person appears in front of him. He’s not sure if it’s a teacher or just a very tall student. Peter glances at the mysterious silhouette and quickly stands up, no matter how much his knee hurts.

“Tony?” The kid asks. Everyone around him has turned to look at the scene. “What are you— What are you—”

“I was in the neighborhood,” the man simply dismisses to then look at the ground where Peter’s books were displayed messily. He glares at Flash who, in front of him, is looking back at him in awe.

“T-Tony Stark,” he mumbles and  _god_ , if Peter’s senses weren’t all over the place, it’d be more than rewarding to see him in that state.

“It’s Mr. Stark, for you,” Tony corrects. He’s on his Earth’s Best Defender voice, and Peter notices it’s  _very_  different than the one he has when he talks to Pepper, to Rhodey, to  _him_. “And, see, I just happened to see what you did to my intern here. I don’t think I like it.”

“Your— Your—” Flash is a mess.

“My intern? Peter here is an intern at Stark Industries. Probably the smartest one there, too. He didn’t tell you?”

“He— He—”

“Come on, Eugene. Where did all that confidence go?” Tony looks at the books again and then back at Flash, who instantly ducks down to grab them all and not-so-nicely return them to his owner, who can’t seem to realize what’s happening until Tony lands a hand on his shoulder and he noticeably relaxes. “Oh, how nice of you. C’mon, skidaddle before I run into your principal,” he says. “And, god, leave my kid alone, will you? It’s getting pathetic.”

People around him laugh quietly, like they’re afraid to do it out loud. As Tony walks Peter out of the building, asking time and time again if he’s okay, if he’s hurt, Peter can only think about the words  _my kid_. He feels so loved it makes his eyes fill with tears, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t cry. Instead, Peter just hugs Tony tightly, trying not to break any of his bones. Tony smiles and places a hand on the boy’s hair.

“C’mon, Underoos. I’ll drive you to your Aunt’s.”

And Peter maybe forgets about his homework for a day because Ned can’t stop texting him and  _holy shit, dude, was that Tony fucking Stark? Did Iron Man just end bullying in our school? Did you see it? DID YOU? It was so cool, oh my god, I think I’m passing out._

Peter runs a hand through his hair and laughs, sitting on his bed. _Yeah. He’s pretty cool, right?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand that's number two! the fact that the far from home trailer just dropped makes this all look much more sad than it originally was... but that's part of the job as a marvel stan, isn't it?
> 
> anygays, i promise happier chapters are coming! in the meantime, you can follow me on my twitter (@avastrk!) and leave a comment, i really appreciate feedback. love u! stay safe! drink water! take your meds!

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed it! your comments are very well received — i'm a sucker for feedback, you know it.  
> you can follow me on my very messy twitter aka @avastrk! i promise i'm cool. kind of. a little bit.  
> love ya! stay hydrated! sleep! eat! take ur meds! be safe!


End file.
